Many years ago, back when the world was young, we had a President named John Kennedy. "Jack" to his friends.
And one time, while he was President, he and his wife went to Paris on an official trip.
The French fell in love with the First Lady. It helped that she spoke their language fluently. But even without that, she would've charmed them.
And, instead of having his ego bruised, and blustering about his many accomplishments, John Kennedy introduced himself thus "I am the man who accompanied Jacqueline Kennedy to Paris."
Can anyone, even his most ardent supporters, imagine Donald J. Trump doing the same thing?
No. Because for a crass ego maniacal boor that sort of self deprecating action would be like a little death. It's never not about Donald J. Trump. It can't be. Everything else comes second.
Everything.
Now, admittedly, John F. Kennedy had more class in his toenail clippings than Donald J. Trump has in his entire bloated body.
But still...
Money can buy you many things. Gilded gold chairs. Shiny brass signs with your name on them.
Maybe even the Presidency.
It cannot buy you intelligence, taste, or class.
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